CAVERNS.

Few natural objects are of more wide and, varied interest than caverns. Both those of our own and foreign countries, of the old world and the new, present subjects for study and hypothesis to the naturalist, the antiquarian, the botanist, the geologist, and the true lover of the marvellous and beautiful. The many curious legends and traditions, the ever-varying phenomena, the fantastic forms and wonderful productions, both animal, vegetable, and mineral, would each furnish material for volumes; but our space will only allow of our drawing attention to some of the principal caverns, both British and foreign.

We frequently find traces of heathen worship having been conducted in caverns. Apart from the safety and seclusion which would lead to the choice of such spots, a sort of mystic awe and reverence seems to have been felt for those vast and gloomy subterranean vaults. We have fine remains of these at Elephanta, Salsette, and Ellora, where it is evident that the ancients took advantage of natural crevices upon which to construct their pagan temples. At Elephanta many gigantic idols remain, among which we recog-point. Here, in 1821, were found bones of the nize the hideous forms of Brahma, Vishnoo,

gle with the atmosphere; therefore, though a man may walk in without feeling any ill effects, his head being in the pure air, and far above the carbonic acid, yet any small animal, almost immediately upon entering the cave, is seen to fall down insensible. In some caverns icicles, intense frosts, and frozen streams may be found in the dog-days; while in the winter, the temperature is so mild and equable, that animals, and often men, take refuge in them as a shelter from the intense cold. This may easily be understood, when we remember that the warm, dry air without, would cause evaporation to take place in the damp, enclosed air within: and in the same way, during winter, the cold of the atmosphere will not so readily promote it; the cavern, therefore, must retain an equable warmth.

So much for the caves of the old world; but, how is it possible for any description to convey an idea of the majesty and beauty displayed in

those of the new-that continent where all nature is on a scale so vast, so stupendous, so new, and so varied? Some of the caverns of America are supposed to penetrate entire mountains: for miles may the wondering traveller walk through subterranean vaults and passages, among a new and luxuriant vegetation, by the side of a clear stream, in most cases abounding in fish, many of which, it is said, are without any organ of sight-the faculty of seeing, it is supposed, not being developed, as the need does not exist.

For an account of one of the most strikingthe Cavern of Guacharo, in New Andalusia-we would refer our readers to the description of a visit to it, from the master-pen of the great traveller Humboldt, who penetrated as far as the superstitions and fears of his guides would permit, and was at every step struck with awe and wonder at the sublime beauties unfolded to him. J. S.

THE WIFE AT HOME.

BY F. H. STAUFFER.

direct it in the most appropriate manner to all the practical purposes of life. Let there be truthfulness and integrity in her nature, strengthened by a thorough course of mental discipline; and it will not fail to give beauty and power to her thoughts and character. It does not consist in the ready flow of conversation, captivating in its vivacity, brilliant in its fresh conceptions, charming in its polished sentences, dazzling in its witticisms, and instructive in its solidity.

It is within the circle of her domestic assi-invests them with peculiar charms, like the vaduity that we must go to judge of the true riegated hues with which a brilliant rainbow worth of a woman-to make a correct estimate tints the gloomy clouds. The proud and_danof her forbearance, her virtue, and her felicity. gerous gift of genius is not necessary. Let a There are displayed all the finer feelings of woman possess what is infinitely more valuable which the pure heart of woman is susceptible.-good common sense, and intellect sufficient to It is in the midst of trial and suffering, misfortune and anguish, that the nobler traits of the true wife are displayed in all their characteristic beauty. Adversity only increases the ardour of her attachment; and the constancy and intensity of her devotion are such as no changes or chances can estrange or subdue. There are no recriminations to drive love away, no violence to alienate the heart, no neglect to impel to desperation. All is love, kindness, and persuasion. Oh, what is more sweet, more calculated to enhance the value of domestic relationship, than for a man cast down, worried, almost driven to despair, to turn his footsteps away from the busy world, and mingle with the loved ones at home-to have a place where feeling and sympathy are manifested, where glance responds to glance, and heart to heart-where the abilities may make home very pleasant and agreeA woman with ordinary features and ordinary sweet, musical voice, of one nearest and dearest able. And who would not prefer such a one to to the soul, life-inspiring yet unobtrusive in its her who-no matter how beautiful or bewitching counsel, sends him forth again, with a stronger-puts on her smiles like her ornaments, and shoulder to stem the tide of adversity! dresses her mind, like her person, for company, Few secrets are so important as that of know-in painted colours, fictitious charity, and pinching how to make home happy. Beauty of features is not necessary. Ordinary features, when lit up with the sunbeams of sensibility, generally excite the same passions which they express; and the winning attraction of their smile

those constituted to render home happy, may True, these qualifications, combined with make a woman the embodiment of all the most noble and imaginative heart could wish or desire; but they are not essentially necessary.

beck benevolence?

The true secret of making home happy is to have the heart in the right place to have the charity to overlook foibles-to learn to forgive and to forget, and never to be too proud to

The pains the wife took to charm her husband before marriage should be doubled afterwards. From that period they become a world of their own. The tie that binds them should be immaculate strength impossible to be withered by the false refinement of vitiated society.

make concessions; ever, as it were, intuitively, serve and shrinking delicacy of her character, with a blind man's instinct, detecting those and, even while appearing to waver, diffuse a thousand little things that evince, in silence, a tranquillizing influence over all around her, like devotion and affection unspeakable. But, above the falling of the pure, soft light, felt, but not all, the wife should possess that genuine piety heard, swaying all by the magic cestus of her which leads her to forget herself in seeking the love. glory of God and the happiness of her fellowbeing. The useful attainments of life should be blended with the lighter accomplishments; and the attractive amenity of her manners should spring less from the polish of intercourse than from the inborn sweetness of her disposition. She must be a woman true to herself, her nature, and her destiny-one daring to break away from the slavery of fashion and the allurements of pleasure, and to seek her happiness in the path of duty alone. She must be sensitive in her organization, ardent in herfeelings, wholesouled in her attachments, calm and gentle in her wisdom, tender in her sympathy, firm, yet not ostentatious in her piety-a woman selfpossessed, having the tranquil air of one conscious of her own moral strength, and of the existence of impulses and feelings too sacred to be lightly displayed to a world which has nothing in common with them, and which, therefore, in the ark of love at home, gush forth, like a leaping fountain, in all their fulness and their glory. She can be strong in the very re

To a husband wearied with toil, dejected in body and spirit, there is nothing so sweet as a look, a word, an act of kindness dictated by a good disposition. It is like dew to the flowers, like water to the parched lips of a weary traveller over Asiatic dearth, like the soft, cool hand of friendship on the fevered brow of the convalescent. How rich a man must feel in the consciousness of possessing a woman's love that cannot be wearied or exhausted, that cannot be chilled by selfishness, weakened by unworthiness, nor destroyed by ingratitude-a love that rises superior to the afflictions of misfortune, leaping from the heart of a woman, who, when all the world forsake him, will be all the world to him!

LEAVES FOR THE LITTLE ONES.

THE NEW YEAR'S FESTIVITIES AT three sisters during the interval between the

FAIRMOUNT.

"Is dear papa awake yet?" said the gentle voice of Alice Trevor, when she had tapped lightly at the door of the little dressing-room where her mamma sat watching beside the sofa on which lay Mr. Trevor. He had been very ill, this kind papa of Alice and several younger brothers and sisters; and the house was kept extremely quiet, and everyone walked about on tiptoe and spoke in the lowest of whispers. Even little Susan Trevor, the round, rosy pet of all her brothers and sisters, knew well that peals of laughter must be subdued, and playful screams altogether hushed, during this sudden and dangerous illness of dear papa's.

He was better now, however; the physicians had pronounced him out of danger; and for the last day or two he had been able to sit up for several hours at a time by a good fire in his airy dressing-room. Mrs. Trevor had been very busy attending upon him, and had scarcely ever left him; and Alice, at twelve years of age, was so steady a girl, that no one wondered when her mamma intrusted her with several matters of importance, gave her the house-purse, containing the week's money for current expenses, and confided to her the care of two brothers and

visits of Miss Morgan, the morning governess.

Very soon she would have yet more anxious duties to perform, and still with very little assistance from her mamma. It so happened that just before Mr. Trevor's sudden attack of illness, a number of Alice's cousins and some other children, friends of the little Trevors, had been invited to spend a merry New Year's Day at Fairmount. This arrangement Alice's papa would by no means allow to be altered; declaring that he should be quite well enough, when the time came, to bear the sound of merry little voices and laughter, and that he would not have the young ones disappointed on any account. So Alice, by her mamma's desire, had written to all the children's parents to confirm the previous arrangement; and the postman having just brought a handful of notes in reply to hers, she now waited at the door of the dressing-room to show them to her mamma.

"Come in, my dear," said Mr. Trevor in reply to her gentle tap. "I am awake now, and I should like you to sit down and talk to me a little while. Just give those notes to mamma, and tell me what amusements you have planned for this gay party."

"Dear papa," replied Alice, tears filling her soft blue eyes as she gazed upon her papa's wan

So Alice went, and found everything in confusion in the large old school-room, and it was some time before order was restored. She then sat down to tea with her elder brother and sister, and superintended the new milk and dry toast for the lesser children, her mamma remaining Merrily looked forth the sun from his curtains with her papa in his dressing-room. And so of mist on the long-expected New Year's mornthe evening passed away, with reading and ing, and a pretty sight he gazed upon, as he singing, and bedtime prayers andloving good-watched the juveniles setting out, in chaise and nights, and the children slept beneath their little phaeton, and comfortable brougham or wagwhite coverlids. gonette, for a long drive along the frosty roads that led to Fairmount. There all were waiting to It was New Year's Eve, and the Old Year's welcome them; and a brighter light than usual

beamed from Alice's blue eyes, and a gladder | with it at full speed. Rosa stamped and tone sounded in her voice; for her dear papa screamed with passion; and Alice, coming to was wonderfully better, and had promised to the rescue, in vain tried to catch Fido, or to be present during a part of the evening's revels. silence Rosa. The tiresome affair was put an Mrs. Trevor had descended to the breakfast- end to by the luncheon-bell, which Fido no room for the morning meal, for the first time sooner heard than he put down the doll, and since Mr. Trevor's sudden attack; and the boys walking gravely to the door, waited to be let and the younger girls had all been admitted to out. Rosa, too, ceased her screaming, and atthe breakfast-table, and feasted with coffee and tempted to smoothe her ruffled plumes; nottoast instead of their usual milk and bread. withstanding which, she descended to the diningAfter which they, with one accord, posted them-room with swollen eyes and a very perturbed selves at the windows to watch the company countenance. After this, all passed on well arrive. until the evening, when other guests from the I am sorry to say that Charlie was very mis-immediate neighbourhood began to assemble. chievous, as usual; he had jogged Katie's elbow as she was drinking her coffee, and had caused her to spill it on the clean damask cloth; he had kicked Jessie under the table, and made her cry; and now he was fidgetting about among the ornaments and vases, until Mrs. Trevor was quite nervous, and sister Alice and Charlotte Grace had to hold him prisoner between them. Susan, too, was far too proud of her new silk dress, and went about spreading it out and displaying its flounces, much like a peacock with his splendid train, but without the same excuse for her vanity. But, ah me! boys will be mischievous, and girls will be silly and vain; and so it goes on to the end of the chapter. There were more mischievous and silly boys and girls than Charlie and Susan Trevor present, when the expected visitors had all arrived.

George and Allen Browne came cantering up, on their bay ponies, with a groom behind them. They were very eager in their inquiries as to the state of the fishpond, and the likelihood of a good skating-match.

As the water had frozen over at least four inches thick, and the ice was perfectly opaque, the report was most satisfactory; and a little party, including the Trevor boys, set forth at once to try their new skates. They were soon joined by other arrivals; Walter Maynard, John and Henry Millard, and Beatrice Leslie-an only child and heiress, and a great romp, who availed herself of her important standing to do all manner of out-of-the-way things, and now insisted on skating with the boys. But her fun was soon over; she got a great fall, and was led limping home by old Johnson the butler, who witnessed her discomfiture. She found Alice and all the other girls assembled in the large school-room, busily occupied with dolls of all sizes and complexions, gigantic Noah's arks, puzzles, and games of all sorts. These were pretty generally despised by Miss Beatrice, who mounted, as soon as her injuries would permit, on the large rocking-horse belonging to Arthur Trevor, and galloped away like a butcher's boy.

The others continued playing very amicably for a short time, until Jane Thompson seized the doll that her sister Rosa was dressing, and shaking it at Fido, Charlie's little dog, provoked him to bark and snarl, and finally to seize it by the skirts of its fine satin dress, and make off

My little readers have doubtless often witnessed acted-charades and tableaux vivants; and therefore I shall not attempt to describe those which were enacted at the Fairmount New Year's Festival. Suffice it to say, that in the "living pictures" our sweet Alice gained tremendous applause; while Charlotte Grace, who had not the gift of remaining motionless in the same attitude for ten minutes at a time, especially distinguished herself in the charades.

"I say, Charlie," whispered Jane Thompson, during the first of the last charade, "let us do something to startle them all. I am quite tired of playing pretty.'

"With all my heart!" said Charlie. "I'll tell you what. I've a squib in my box, left from Gunpowder-day. I'll fetch it, and throw it among them."

Jane nodded her head in token of approba

tion.

roar.

Five minutes afterwards, all was in an upThe little stage on which the charades were acted was covered with sparks, the actors were screaming with dismay, and poor little Katie Millard, her light tarlatane dress all in flames, was rolling frantically on the ground; while Mr. Trevor, almost fainting with weakness and the sudden fright into which he had been thrown, knelt beside her, endeavouring to extinguish the flames with an old shawl. They were at length subdued, but not until both Katie and Mr. Trevor were sadly burnt. Of course all pleasure was now at an end; the elder guests ordered their carriages, and departed; and when the carol-singers arrived, they were dismissed with a small gratuity. Katie was put to bed, and the doctor sent for. As all the company had been looking towards the stage at the time of the accident, and the actors were too much absorbed in their parts to notice anything of it, no one knew at present who had thrown the squib. Jane Thompson was questioned, but denied all knowledge of the matter, and Charlie had disappeared. But when there was a general muster of the young ones for purposes of washing and bed, Master Charlie was discovered crying most miserably in the garret, and he soon confessed the whole affair. You may suppose that Jane Thompson was sent home in the morning in sad disgrace for conniving at Charlie's mischief and telling a story into the bargain. As for that young gen